


I Did Wed Jacko

by orphan_account



Category: Lisa Marie Presley (Musician), Michael Jackson (Musician)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, handjob, the whole package basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 11:55:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8712808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Michael rolled his eyes. “You know why. All these reporters at least seem to know why. I’m ugly, I’m weird, I’m… ‘Wacko Jacko’.”
Lisa immediately rose to her feet and crossed over to him, her eyes hovering over his shoulder in the reflection. She shook her head and told him, as she always did, “I love everything about you. You aren’t those things, and you know it.”
“Lisa, let’s face it,” said Michael. “I’m never going to be good enough in anyone’s eyes.”
“Fuck anyone else’s eyes.”





	

Lisa Marie woke up with a beaming grin on her face.

Satin pillow beneath her head, faux-wool blankets burying her from head to toe, and even a charming little fireplace heating up the room. A dull ache burned in all her muscles as she stretched, but it was a pleasant sensation. It was a result of the night before, and the memories came flooding back, causing her enormous smile to grow even wider. She reached out to her left, expecting her fingernails to graze against the flesh of her husband’s back, yet there was nothing to be found but sheets.

She sighed. Michael did this far too often for her liking. She preferred his face to be the first thing she saw when her eyes fluttered open, but lately, it was much likelier for her gaze to be met with an empty space. Today would be no different.

She swung the heavy blankets off her body and reached for her silk robe hanging on the post beside her. She had been needing it in the mornings quite a lot recently. They always said the first year of marriage was the hardest, but Lisa had never believed them. After all, with Danny, the first year had been a breeze. It was the years to follow that ultimately caused their inevitable split.

Yet this time around, the old wives tale was beginning to sink in. When she and Michael were around each other, all they seemed to do was argue. And when they weren’t arguing, they were taking out their frustrations with physical means. But fiery kisses and sweaty hands and scalding pants against her neck were not enough to satisfy their troubles. So they would wake up and start all over again.

It wasn’t either party’s fault though, and she knew that. The strain on their marriage had nothing to do with what was going on between them; it had everything to do with what was going on outside of them. Every day, a new headline was plastered over the world. Another day meant another ridiculous rumor, and no matter what Lisa said or did, she couldn’t heal Michael from the wounds their battering words left engraved in his skin.

This morning, she wasn’t going to let it be another fight. She hated that the media could have so much power over a relationship that had nothing to do with them. So instead of ignoring that her husband hadn’t been there to hold her in his arms, she was going to find him and end this insufferable cycle.

“Michael!” she called his name, but was met with no response. Sliding on her slippers, she strutted into the hallway. She desperately tried to remain at a healthy volume with her beckons as she knew Riley and Ben were sleeping nearby. They had all spent the night at Neverland yesterday, for Michael had business to take care of with the workers on the ranch and there had been no sense in leaving.

Eventually, Lisa wandered into the library, and she stopped in her tracks at what she saw.

Her Michael. He was sleeping in a chair near the fireplace, several magazines on his lap and scattered on the floor around him. He looked so peaceful in his slumber, all his worries melting as delicious dreams danced inside his brain. Not a trace of worry was evident in his brow. But Lisa knew better; she could tell he was still troubled in his unconsciousness by the grip he had on one of the shiny booklets in his hand.

Tentatively, she stepped forward, not wanting to disturb him. He hardly got enough sleep as it was, there was no sense in waking him. He must have woken up in the middle of the night and retreated to this room, this sanctuary of his. She knew how much he loved his library. It was filled to the brim with stories that he could lose himself in, forget about his royal life for a few moments out of each day.

So when she saw what the covers on the magazines he held read, she was shocked that they weren’t as cheerful as she’d believed they would be.

_Michael & Elvis’ Daughter: The Full Bizarre Marriage Story_  
I’m Going to Have Jacko’s Babies  
Elvis Girl: I DID Wed Jacko  
MRS. WACKO WANTS TO ADOPT SICK GIPSY BABY  
The Videos Lisa Marie Found in Michael’s Closet  
JACKSON-PRESLEY UNION SPARKS SHOCK, DOUBT, LAUGHS 

Lisa’s grimace deepened with every line she read. She could barely contain her disgust as she rifled through an endless list of assaults on their marriage. With every scoff and snort, she flicked her eyes up back towards Michael to assure herself that she had not awoken him. He slept like a rock.

Shaking her head, she gathered the tabloids from the floor and set them in a stack on the nearby table. She left the ones on his lap in fear of forcing him awake. Instead, she only leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead before beginning to leave the room.

Unfortunately, she’d overestimated the depth of his slumber, and with that small amount of contact, he began to open his eyes. He smiled sleepily as her face came into view. “Hi,” he mumbled, stretching out his limbs.

“Hey,” she stated, ice cold. She hadn’t wanted to argue today, and she still didn’t, but she was determined to get to the bottom of this. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, still half-asleep.

Lisa pointed down at the small pile of tabloids on his lap, and when he saw what she meant, he immediately changed his demeanor. Suddenly, he was a fifteen year-old being reprimanded by his mother for being caught with a Playboy under his bed. Michael shifted his eyes away from her stern gaze, a blush dusting itself onto his already rosy cheeks.

He muttered under his breath, “I’m sorry.”

“What are you doing to yourself?” she demanded an answer. “You and I both know what this stuff does to you. Why would you want to read it?” Lisa knelt down on both knees, grabbing his hands in her own and ignoring the soft shuffle as the rest of the lies clattered to the floor. “Honey, you gotta talk to me.”

He sighed and slid his hands out of her weak hold. Gently pushing her aside, he stood up and walked over to the full-length mirror standing by one of the bookshelves. He lifted a hand up to his face to brush aside his tousled hair. “Do you think I’m ugly?” he questioned.

Lisa scoffed. “What?”

He replied, “I’m serious,” never taking his eyes off his own face. “Is there something about me that is…unworthy of being loved? Should I get my 95th nosejob?” He laughed at that, mocking the magazines he had been so eagerly pondering over the night before.

“Why would you even ask me that?”

Michael rolled his eyes. “You know why. All these reporters at least seem to know why. I’m ugly, I’m weird, I’m… ‘Wacko Jacko’.”

Lisa immediately rose to her feet and crossed over to him, her eyes hovering over his shoulder in the reflection. She shook her head and told him, as she always did, “I love everything about you. You aren’t those things, and you know it.”

“Lisa, let’s face it,” said Michael. “I’m never going to be good enough in anyone’s eyes.”

“Fuck anyone else’s eyes.”

Michael raised his eyebrows at that.

Slowly, Lisa reached her hand over his shoulder to caress his cheek. “Look in the mirror, and tell me what you see,” she said.

He stared hard and long at his reflection. Every word that came to his mind to describe himself was negative, and he knew he shouldn’t feel that way, but it was the truth. It was a truth he had built for himself with all the sticks and stones that had been wailed his way through the years. Defeated, he grumbled, “A freak.”

“You know what I see?” she said with confidence. “My beautiful husband. My partner who would never do anything to harm anyone. Who has saved and helped so many people, including myself. The man that I love, the man that I chose to marry because I couldn’t help but fall in love with him.”

“Lisa-“

“I’m not finished, Turd,” she objected, and he smirked at her personal twist on the nickname his family had given him.

“I look at those brown eyes,” and she pointed to them, “and see through them the soul that was meant to find mine. I see in your face the most gorgeous man I have ever met. An incredible smile, a nose that yes, has been modified, but looks just as perfect and endearing as it did without the surgery. A strong jaw, which what women don’t tell you, is the feature that we like the most.”

She trailed her hands down his neck. “A throat that from which comes one of the most angelic voices to ever be heard. Your voice has united people of all ages, races, ethnicities, and origins. Then we have your shoulders, and you know how much I love them.” Michael chuckled. Lisa never did miss an opportunity to compliment his muscular shoulders.

Lightly, Lisa grazed her fingers down his frame. “Your arms, slender yet powerful. They have held me when I’ve cried, held Riley and Ben when they needed comfort, and have held the millions of fans that would die for you. And your hands, big and strong and they feel really good in…certain places,” she chuckled. She pointed down at his legs and feet.

“Finally, we have these. Those legs that have danced across several stages all over the world. The feet that made the moonwalk famous. The moves that you can do with these two are mesmerizing, and everyone would kill to have the talent you have in just these two body parts. There is no one more talented than you on this planet right now, Michael Jackson, and only very few will ever measure up to you.”

Michael could barely keep the grin off his face, and he chortled quietly. He didn’t know what to say. No one had ever made him feel as good as his wife could. She was the one with the most power over him, and he was happy to surrender it. His heart was in her hands, and she was the only person who could crush it and put it back together again. “I love you,” he settled on.

“And you know damn well I love you,” she replied. “So I’m not going to give a shit what some magazine says, they don’t know us. Ignore it, Michael, because they don’t deserve your fucking time.”

Michael laughed aloud. “Lisa Marie, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get into my pants with your dirty talk.”

He immediately regretted that sentence when suddenly, her hand was down his pajamas with a firm grip on his flaccid cock. He gulped. Her hand didn’t hold on hard enough to hurt, but enough for him to know the pleasurable torture that was going to follow.

She smirked, and he could see the evil glint in her eyes in their reflection. “Who says I have to _try_ to do that?”

“Th-there’s no door in here,” he stuttered. “Someone c-c-could walk in.”

Lisa stood on her tip-toes and took his earlobe between her teeth. Michael whimpered in response. She whispered, “Then I guess we’re just going to have to be quiet, now aren’t we?”

Slowly, she dragged her hand up and down his cock, and he relished in her soft movements. Gradually, his dick rose to attention, but her motions never quickened or ceased. She just continued petting him, teasing him with the pleasure he knew she could give him, but never moved to do so. The effect she had on him and his body was critical.

He huffed for air, a ravenous ache forming in the pit of his stomach. “Lisa, please,” he whispered through clenched teeth.

“Please, what?” she interrogated him, kissing his neck. She moved her hand to the head of his cock, wiping some of the pre-cum onto her hand before dragging it back down along his shaft.

He gasped, “Please, please, just go faster.”

She chuckled, and the rumble spread against his skin. “But now, that wouldn’t be as fun, baby,” purred Lisa.

A blistering want echoed within the confines of his body, but all he could do was remain perfectly still while she had his way with him. It was a game he was happy to play, as torturous as it was. Her wet mouth upon his dewy skin was an aphrodisiac. Everything about her turned him on until he was weak with carnal need, but the feeling of her leaving a trail of saliva and teeth marks and even a few bruises to assure him of her possession over him…it would be the death of him.

He whined as her grip tightened ever so slightly. His knees buckled and he let his head fall back onto her shoulder, to which she wrapped an arm around his waist, keeping her motions steady.

“Fuck,” he moaned, and Lisa echoed his growl. It wasn’t often that Michael swore, but hearing it in the midst of bliss that she was causing him was her own personal heaven.

Michael’s jaw opened slightly and his eyes rolled back a bit, lost in the paradise that was coursing through his body. “Please, Lisa, don’t stop, don’t ever stop,” he pleaded. He turned his head minutely to press his forehead against her neck, just to feel the relief of her cool skin against his feverish flesh.

That’s when Lisa decided to give him what he so desperately needed.

She quickened her pace, dragging her hand up and down his shaft with just the right amount of pressure, always making sure to give the head a twirl of the hand with each motion. Michael just continued to moan, biting his lip to try to remain quiet. It hardly worked at all.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbled against her skin. She could feel his muscles tensing against her body and knew he was near his release. Before he reached his climax, she took her other hand and clamped it tight over his mouth.

Michael could barely contain himself. He bit into Lisa’s hand, closing his eyes as he shook from the power of his orgasm. The noise he made was almost inhuman; a groan mixed with a growl and a whimper that almost made Lisa laugh. His seed spilled into his bottoms, bathing his trousers and Lisa’s hand in the evidence.

“Shh,” Lisa hummed in his ear, pressing kisses over and over again up and down his cheek while he came into her palm.

When the waves of intense pleasure finally retreated, he was left satiated, sleepy, and happy. Lisa lifted her hand out of his pants and licked up what remained on her flesh of his come. He tasted like satisfaction; the gratification that came with making Michael Jackson almost fall to your knees was an indescribable feeling.

He lifted his head off her shoulder and stood upright again, turning to face her smug expression. Lifting a finger, he scolded, “Lisa Marie Presley, you are a devil woman.”

“Presley- _Jackson_ ,” she corrected. “And only because that was the one body part I forgot to compliment.” When she winked, he laughed and cupped her face in his hands, planting a kiss on her lips.

“I love you,” he said, “but now I have to go take a shower.”

“Mmm, can I join you?”

“Haven’t you had enough fun already?”

“Hey, I’ve been hurt by the tabloids too,” she pouted.

Michael rolled his eyes, but turned around anyways, beckoning with a finger for her to follow. “Come along, dear,” he teased.

“Oh, there’s another thing I forgot,” she said.

“Huh?” Michael asked, turning his head over his shoulder to look at her. But before he could hear her explain, he felt a smack against his bottom. And then Lisa was running ahead of him, laughing.

He called in shock, “Did you just spank me?”

“I like your ass too!” she shouted back.

Michael laughed and shook his head. She was crazy.

Crazy enough to fall in love with the “Wacko Jacko” he was.


End file.
